


Pansy’s

by Delilah2040



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 06:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20791802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delilah2040/pseuds/Delilah2040
Summary: Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy had been the best of friends for as long as Draco could remember. He never imagined he would be forced to grow up and live his life without her.With the help of a little tea shop, some unlikely friendships (and maybe something more) and a little blue haired boy, he learns to live again.





	1. Prologue

A lot can happen in the space of three days. 

Flowers can bloom and die in the space of three days. 

The sun will rise and set three times in three days. 

A life can be lost in three days. 

A life will be changed in three days. 

Too much can happen in the space of three days


	2. Day one: the last day of a flowers bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Pansy thought that as long as they stuck together, they would be okay.

The last day of the flowers bloom

Pansy lay there on Draco's bed happy. He loved seeing her smile, he loved her laugh, her little pug nose which he teased her mercilessly for. 

He loved the way her flat stomach was the perfect place for him to rest his head as he read whatever book interested him that day. 

He loved the way her hands carted through his blond hair combing and twisting the silky strands. 

His love for her is not to be mistaken however. For although he loved her, he could never be in love with her. 

She was his best friend. 

This day was one just like most others. Unlike many other Slytherin students Pansy and Draco had come back to hogwarts to complete their eighth year. 

They had no idea of the horrors they'd face. 

The nasty words, the glares, the hexes and curses thrown their way. 

So they stuck together. As they had all their lives. 

Draco lay in his spot on Pansy's stomach, book long forgotten as they talked of the future. 

"I've always had this little guilty dream to have a restaurant or cafe or something, somewhere people could meet up or catch up with friends you know?" She says complete seriously. 

Draco was shocked to say the least, he had always expected something for more wizardly of his best friend, maybe a wizards fashion line or something of the sort. 

"That could have been possible before the war but now," He trails of thinking of the hex yesterday that had made him pass out. Someone had taken him to Madam Pomfrey but he hadn't the slightest idea who. 

"Maybe I'll try anyway, it can be a safe place for people like us, or anyone who needs it," she says only getting a hum of approval from the boy laying across her stomach. "What should I name it?" She asks after a pause. 

"Name it after the most beautiful thing you know; me of course," the young Malfoy replies voice riddled with sarcasm. 

"That's a good idea but I don't think many people would want to come to 'blond prick's coffee house' just doesn't have the right ring to it" she replies in a similar tone. 

This of course earns her a back hand to the shoulder. 

"Where would you even have it? Diagon Alley? Hogsmeade?" Draco asks. 

"I was thinking a quiet part of Diagon Alley, but I've had my eye on the empty shop next to the Weasleys wizard wheezes shop," she replies. 

Draco knows the spot, it once belonged to an old woman who ran a tea shop. She was killed during the war and the plot has been empty since. 

"And you wouldn't mind the fact that it's next to the Weasleys?" Draco questions in disbelief. 

"I don't know, their shop is pretty fantastic," Pansy answers. 

They continue to talk for hours. Until they fall asleep laying there together.


	3. Day two: as the flower wilts

As the flower wilts

It was another day like any other, at least, that's what Draco thought. Except today he didn't walk Pansy to her first class. 

She was an easier target than he was. Everyone was afraid of what Draco may be able to do after so long under the dark lords command. Pansy however was just a girl who hung out with the wrong crowd, a death eater sympathizer. 

Draco should never have let her go on her own, he thought she would be fine but he still should have gone with her. 

He realised how stupid it was of him to leave her when he was told that she was found face down in the lake, arms and legs still bound. 

He was in the hospital wing within minutes and by her side. 

"We're doing everything we can," Madam Pomfrey's voice rings out sympathetically behind him. 

"Please tell me she'll be okay, she has to be okay," Draco begs, choking back a sob. 

"I can't tell you that Mr Malfoy, I'm sorry. There has been a significant amount of damage done to her brain, we are doing our best to reverse it but all we can do now is make her feel comfortable. We don't know if she'll make it through the night," she says resting her hand on Draco's shoulder as he breaks down, sobs racking his body. 

"I'm sorry," Pomfrey repeats before leaving, already preparing to get Draco excuses from the remainder of his classes. She knew there was no way she could convince him to leave. 

Draco has no idea how much time had past when Harry Potter arrived. With ruby red roses in one hand, a plate in the other and a book bag hanging heavily off his shoulder, Draco couldn't bring himself to even glare at his rival. 

"Malfoy, I uh- I see Pomfrey has already gotten you food but I thought I'd save you some treacle tart, I know it's your favourite," Potter says putting the plate next to the tray that had already been sitting there. Untouched. 

Draco doesn't reply, eyes still focused on his best friends emotionless face. 

"I also brought the work that you missed out on, and a copy of Hermione's notes so you don't actually have to do anything. And um some flowers for when Parkinsons wakes up," he says carefully. 

"She's not going to wake up," Draco says, his voice rough from crying. 

"What?" Potter asks.

"She, Pomfrey says she'll be lucky to live through the night and her- the damage to her brain-" Draco breaks off into a sob for once, not caring about Potters presence. 

That changes when he feels Potter crouch down infront of him and put a hand gently on his shoulder. Draco allows himself to be pulled into an awkward embrace from The Boy Who Lived. 

Much to Draco's surprise, Potter never says 'it's going to be okay' and somehow that's more comforting. He just lets him cry. 

Draco pulls away ashamed and unable to look Potter in the eyes. Potter stands up. "Try to eat something, Pansy wouldn't want you to stop taking care of yourself because of her," 

Harry leaves before he can see Draco eat a small bite of food from the plate he brought.


	4. Day three: the death of a flower as beautiful as you

The death of a flower as beautiful as you

His best friend was gone. The girl he grew up with, the woman he thought would always be there for him. The one person he could always confide in. 

She died early in the morning while he held her hand and could do nothing but scream for help. 

She didn't deserve to die. She didn't deserve to be killed for something she had no part in. 

It was his fault that she died. And there was nothing he could do about it now. 

Potter came in that morning again only for his face to pale at the empty bed Draco was now sitting in front of. 

"Is there anything I can do?" Harry says coming to stand next to Draco. 

"I need to write to her friends and family," he almost whispers. 

"I'll order some nice parchment," Potter says. 

"There's some in my room, the password is Salazar" Draco says. Neither question the sudden truce and trust between them. Not yet anyway.

When Harry came back Draco grabbed the quill to begin to write but couldn't bring himself to press it to the parchment, his hand shook as a fresh wave of tears trailed down his cheeks. 

How on earth was he meant to tell Mrs Parkinson that her daughter was dead. How do you tell a mother that despite the fact that her daughter lived through a war, she couldn't survive whatever child thought it best to take it upon themselves to punish her. 

How was he meant to tell a mother that her daughter was dead when he could hardly believe it himself.


End file.
